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<h1><a href="https://archiveofourown.org/works/24886138">Girls Like You</a> by <a class='authorlink' href='https://archiveofourown.org/users/killingsaray/pseuds/killingsaray'>killingsaray</a></h1>

<table class="full">

<tr><td><b>Category:</b></td><td>Vis a Vis | Locked In (Spain TV)</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Genre:</b></td><td>Bar Owner!Zule, Biker!Maca, F/F, Sarizos, Sexual Tension, Slow Burn, Zurena, utter fucking FILTH</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Language:</b></td><td>English</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Status:</b></td><td>In-Progress</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Published:</b></td><td>2020-06-24</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Updated:</b></td><td>2021-03-23</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Packaged:</b></td><td>2021-05-04 00:47:12</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Rating:</b></td><td>Mature</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Warnings:</b></td><td>No Archive Warnings Apply</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Chapters:</b></td><td>6</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Words:</b></td><td>10,604</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Publisher:</b></td><td>archiveofourown.org</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Story URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/works/24886138</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Author URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/users/killingsaray/pseuds/killingsaray</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Summary:</b></td><td><div class="userstuff">
              <p>“You know what they say about bikers: there’s always something exciting between our legs.” Macarena grinned, those goddamned dimples exposed.</p><p>“Oh, like crabs?” Zulema commented, a smug smirk pulling at her lips. Saray looked between the two of them. </p><p>Oh yeah, Zule liked this girl.</p><p>OR</p><p>The biker/bar owner AU where Maca isn’t who she seems... but then again, neither is Zulema.</p>
            </div></td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Relationships:</b></td><td>Saray Vargas/Estefanía “Rizos” Kabila, Zulema Zahir/Macarena Ferreiro</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Comments:</b></td><td>117</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Kudos:</b></td><td>267</td></tr>

</table>

<a name="section0001"><h2>1. Bad Girl Extraordinaire</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <hr/><p>
  <em>“Stop hanging onto the handrails. Let go. Surrender. Go for the ride of your life. And do it everyday.”</em>
</p><p>
  <em>-Melody Beattie</em>
</p>
<hr/><p>
  <em>
    <span><br/>
Scorpion Bar, Friday 2:22 AM</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <span>Something was about to happen. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Saray could feel it inside, as if the unknown had wrapped itself around her bones like tendons to control her every movement. She stopped wiping down the sticky wooden bar and flexed her fingers, the tightness slowly dissipating. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Hands?” Zulema’s voice appeared before she did. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Saray nodded, pressing her thumbs into her palms to soothe the ache. It helped, just barely. “Yeah. It’s going to storm.” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Zulema placed a black ledger on the portion of the bar that Saray had already cleaned. She made a few notes in the margins, distractedly wondering, “Something bad on the horizon?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Saray smiled and continued wiping the bar down. Zulema was the only one who believed in what others dismissed as the ramblings of a Gypsy. The truth was, there had been countless times when Saray’s strange ability to foresee what was coming had saved their asses. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“</span>
  <em>
    <span>Something</span>
  </em>
  <span> is coming. I can’t tell if it’s good or bad.” Saray admitted. She tossed the rag into a dish bin piled high with shot glasses and glasses meant for pints of beer. Heaving it to the kitchen, Saray passed it off to the remaining dishwashers and returned to the bar, rounding it to sit in front of Zulema. “Whatever it is,” she sighed, crossing her forearms on the counter and resting her cheek against them, “will blow in here like a fucking tornado and sweep up everything in its path.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“That doesn’t sound good.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Saray shrugged, the motion squishing her cheek. “Yeah, but sometimes, a tornado cleanses everything away and when we rebuild, it’s better.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Zulema looked at her, large eyes searching Saray’s face to find something… anything that would help this all make sense. In the end, there was nothing. So, Zulema accepted that this was their fate, but she took comfort in knowing that everything life had ever thrown at them, they landed on their feet each time. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>The rumblings of thunder sounded, followed by a flash of lightning. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“You should get home before it starts coming down.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Another crackle of thunder, followed by the sound of pouring rain.  </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Too late.” Saray commented. She lifted the corner of the bar top and made herself busy putting chairs and stools on top of tables. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Zulema would never admit it aloud, mostly because she wasn’t the best at sharing her feelings, but she admired Saray’s dedication. To everything. If she started something, Saray finished it. She would come in an hour before Scorpion opened and stayed well after the last patron left, even if it wasn’t her shift. </span>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>“If you’re here, I’m here.”</span>
  </em>
  <span> Saray would say. And it was appreciated. Always. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>They’d been friends for as long as Zulema could remember. Friends since they were teenagers, Saray and Zulema knew the deepest, darkest parts of each other’s souls. And that was why, Saray was the only one who knew where Zulema’s metaphorical bodies were buried. Because she had helped bury them. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I just had a thought.” Zulema said, looking up from the ledger. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Hm?” Saray hummed in acknowledgement as she lifted the last chair to overturn it. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“What if—?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>But Saray would never know what the thought was, because along with another clap of roaring thunder, the door to the bar shot open, slamming against the wall. Two women, —one blonde, one brunette— soaking wet from the rain and dressed in clothes meant for bikers, pushed their way into the establishment. A third woman was edged between them, her arms along either of their shoulders and her head slumped forward and she was groaning in pain. </span>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>Great</span>
  </em>
  <span>, Zulema thought, </span>
  <em>
    <span>drunks. </span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <span>“We’re closed!” Zulema called. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I just mopped there!” Saray yelled at the same time, arm out in disbelief. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>It was then that Zulema noticed the blood dripping from the third woman’s torso. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“We need help!” The blonde woman yelled.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Saray took one look at the curly-haired woman, damn near bleeding to death and jumped into action. “Here! Bring her here!”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>She sat the chair down and gestured for them to lay their friend on the pool table that she led them to.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Zule, we need towels and the first aid kit!”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Zulema took in the scene before her: Saray helping three complete strangers, unsure if they were running from the law, a drug lord or from a rival gang. The brown woman to Saray’s right had dark hair and features —Mexican, Zulema guessed— leaned over the prostrate woman on the pool table, stroking wild curls from her face. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I swear to god, Rizos, if you die on us, I’ll kill you myself.” She told her. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>The blonde to Saray’s left, had her back turned to Zulema, but there was still quite enough to look at. And Zulema took her time allowing her eyes to travel up the combat boots, tight jeans and leather vest that doubles as a shirt. Long blonde hair clung to her shoulders and neck. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Zule! Towels!”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Zulema sighed. She didn’t enjoy being put out. It was clear that whatever troubles the storm had brought to the doorstep of her bar, would most certainly not be resolved with a shot of whiskey and a round of pool. But such was life. So, she headed into the kitchen to retrieve clean tea towels and the first aid kit. The last of the dishwashers had left through the rear entrance as they did every night and Zulema thanked the universe for that blessing because how the hell would she have explained the woman bleeding out on her pool table. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“What the hell happened to her?” Zulema heard Saray ask when she returned with supplies.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“She got stabbed.” The raven-haired woman replied.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Jesus.” Saray muttered. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I’m Altagracia, by the way.” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Saray.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“</span>
  <em>
    <span>Mucho gusto</span>
  </em>
  <span>.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“</span>
  <em>
    <span>Igual</span>
  </em>
  <span>.” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Zulema handed off the supplies to Saray and it was then that she was able to get a good look at what was happening. Altagracia had pulled up her friend's blood-soaked shirt just enough so the wound was exposed. There was a four-inch vertical gash just above her navel as if someone had stuck the knife in and tried to gut her like a goddamned fish.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Saray grimaced. And Zulema looked disgusted. </span>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>For fuck’s sake.</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <span>“It doesn’t look like it’s bleeding anymore.” Saray mentioned.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I’ll get whiskey from the bar to clean it.” Zulema suggested. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Up until now, the patient had quiet, mostly moaning from the pain. But as Saray used the towel to wipe away blood from around the wound, she hissed and grabbed Saray’s wrist. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Easy on the goods, </span>
  <em>
    <span>gitana</span>
  </em>
  <span>.” She chuckled a little, only to grunt as a pain shot through her stomach. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Saray smiled softly. “I won’t hurt you. I promise.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Sometimes a little pain is good.” The curly-haired vixen, apparently nicknamed Rizos, gave a weak wiggle of her eyebrows. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Jesus, can you not be horny for </span>
  <em>
    <span>one</span>
  </em>
  <span> minute?” Altagracia asked. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>At the bar, Zulema felt a presence before she turned to see who it was. The blonde woman, who Zulema was starting to suspect was the leader of this little trio, was leaned over the bar top, her forearms resting against it and her cleavage purposefully on display. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Can I help you, </span>
  <em>
    <span>rubia</span>
  </em>
  <span>?” Zulema asked, sitting the top-shelf whiskey on the countertop. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Maca, bad girl extraordinaire.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Zulema, irritated bar owner.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>The blonde pulled Zulema’s hand away from the neck of the bottle and shook it, giving the older woman a dimpled smile. Zulema didn’t like it. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Or rather she didn’t like that she </span>
  <em>
    <span>did</span>
  </em>
  <span>.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“It’s nice to meet you.” She glanced over her shoulder and shrugged. “Sorry about your pool table.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Zulema tilted her head. Jutted her chin toward the occupied green top. “Don’t worry. I’ll send you the bill.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Maca grinned.</span>
</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0002"><h2>2. Good Girls Don't Want To Go To Heaven Yet</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>
  <span>Zulema had seen many things in her forty-plus years on this earth. But she had never seen a wounded woman being scolded for laughing while she was being sewn up on a pool table. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“What’s the matter, </span>
  <em>
    <span>gitana</span>
  </em>
  <span>? You don’t like a challenge?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Are you always annoying?” Saray wondered as she worked to seal the last of the field stitches she’d gotten from the first aid kit.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“No, sometimes I’m horny.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Saray attempted to hide her smirk failed miserably and it only made Rizos grin wider. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Oh, for fuck’s sake.” Altagracía rolled her eyes and picked up the whiskey they’d used to clean Rizos wound and took a swig.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>At the bar, Zulema returned her gaze to the blonde before her. “What happened to your friend?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Oh, she got stabbed,” Macarena replied cheekily. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Sarcasm dripped from Zulema’s words when she responded, “Wow, I would have </span>
  <em>
    <span>never </span>
  </em>
  <span>guessed that.” Maca laughed because apparently Zulema’s irritation really did it for the blonde. “Why?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Well, as you can see, Rizos doesn’t exactly have a brain-to-mouth filter so she’s always getting herself into trouble.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“And you just decided to bring the trouble here. To my bar.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“The lights were on. We assumed you guys were open. Just needed to get out of the rain and get Rizos stitched up.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Zulema’s eyes closed briefly and she nodded once, exhaling her frustrated energy. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Sorry for the inconvenience, but hey, at least you have a story for your husband when you get home.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Zulema chuckled, sardonically. “Bold to assume that I’ll think about you once you leave here.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“The good girls usually do.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>That actually made Zulema laugh. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Heartily. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Head back, perfect teeth bared and the corners of her big, beautiful eyes crinkling just a bit. For all of her cocky demeanor and overall leather and badass look, Macarena couldn’t seem to figure out why she couldn’t stop staring at Zulema’s mouth. As the brunette sobered, head coming back to rest against the palm of her hand, she caught the tail end of Maca’s gaze.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“What do you know about good girls?” Zulema asked, her head shaking in disbelief.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I know good girls are just bad girls who haven’t been introduced to me yet.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Before Zulema could respond, Altagracía whistled once for Macarena’s attention. In her hand was a buzzing mobile phone. She jerked her head towards the front door. Macarena nodded once and turned back to Zulema, a playful smile on her face. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“</span>
  <em>
    <span>Perdón</span>
  </em>
  <span>.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Whoa, whoa, </span>
  <em>
    <span>rubíta</span>
  </em>
  <span>, you’re forgetting something.” Zulema gestured at the woman lying prostrate on her pool table. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Don’t worry. We’ll be back.”</span>
</p><hr/><p>
  <em>
    <span>Flashback, 1 hour prior</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>Three blocks from Scorpion, in an abandoned warehouse, Macarena stood with her hands folded across her chest and Rizos and Altagracía flanking her. A singular stage light shone down between there where a table sat, covered with a black tablecloth and topped with a singular unlit candle, only serving to enhance the dramatic atmosphere. Sitting at the table, tucked into a perfectly cooked steak dinner, complete with roasted red potatoes and grilled asparagus, was their contact. Even in the otherwise shadowed warehouse, Macarena could make out the bodies of at least four henchmen behind him.</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>“Valbuena, as nice as it was to be invited to this dinner, we need to be off, so if we could just get to it--.”</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>“You know,” the man called Valbuena interrupted, “they say when you are having dinner and you don’t light the candles available, you are waiting for someone better… someone more important to arrive. Understand that you are not important to me. You are dispensable. Toys to be tossed around until I am bored of you. So, I will take as much time as I need to decide if I can trust you three.”</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>Macarena flexed her shoulders in an attempt to let his comments roll off of her back. Steeling her expression, the blonde stood there, waiting for what came next. </span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>“I trust Sandoval, and he speaks highly of you. Says you are able to complete any task given to you while remaining under the radar.” Valbuena commented, cutting into his steak. He slipped a piece into his mouth and sighed at its taste. “How?”</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>“We’re women,” explained Macarena.</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>“No one notices a group of women,” replied Altagracía.</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>“At least, not in our line of work,” finished Rizos.</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>Valbuena snapped his fingers twice and out of shadows, one of his men appeared, pouring a glass of red wine. He handed it to Valbuena and then returned to the shadows, waiting to be summoned for a refill. </span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>“Trust me,” he looked Rizos up and down, sipping his wine, “I notice you.”</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>Rizos shivered with disgust and shifted her weight from one foot to the other. Valbuena noticed the movement and chuckled darkly.</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>“Very well.” He sat his wine glass down and clapped his hands together one. Sitting forward, he steepled them and looked directly at Maca. “A test of faith.”</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>Another henchman appeared, holding a large black, duffle bag that he tossed at Maca’s feet.</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>“What is it?”</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>“Performance enhancers,” Valbuena admitted.</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>Rizos snorted. “What? Like Viagra?”</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>“Viagra, cocaine, strychnine. The usual.”</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>“Strychnine?”</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>Valbuena chuckled. “I was surprised, too, but it’s a new order for my favorite customer.”</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>“Your favorite customer sounds like a serial killer.”</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>Valbuena tilted his head side to side as if he had considered this before. “Maybe... but that’s for her to know and me to never find out. You’ll take this bag to her tomorrow morning at Scorpion Bar just off of Calle Huertas. Eleven a.m., do not be late. Understood?”</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>Macarena nodded once.</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>“Good, and if you don’t fuck this up, there will be plenty more jobs for you in the future.”</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>“Vale.” Maca replied. She reached down to pick up the heavy duffle and handed it to Altagracía. </span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>Just as they turned to leave, Valbuena stopped them. “There is just one more thing.”</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>The three women turned to look at him, expectantly.</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>He pointed over his shoulder and asked, “Which one of you is leading the task force outside of the warehouse right now?”</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <span>Fuck</span>
  <em>
    <span>, Maca thought.</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>The trio didn’t have a moment to react before all four henchmen started towards them, wielding knives. Maca managed to size up the smallest of the four and took him out easily with a kick to his groin, and he doubled over in pain, she knocked him to the ground with a left hook and right cross combo to his face. </span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>Altagracía dropped the duffle and quickly drew her own tactical knives that she kept tucked in her boots. She pivoted to her dominant side and used the force of her right fist and the pommel of the knife to hit the second bodyguard in his stomach and then uppercut him, followed by a left cross. She lifted her left leg and kicked him square in the chest, sending him hurtling towards the ground, leaving her open for the third henchman.</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>“If you’re sure this is what you want,” she quipped. </span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>“This is going to be fun.” Rizos added as the fourth and final Neanderthal came for her. </span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>Almost in unison, they landed their first set of punches against their opponents. Rizos, however, didn’t calculate for the quick reflexes of hers. He recovered too quickly for her and backhanded her once. Twice. Thrice. And when she lifted her arm to retaliate, he grabbed her wrist and shoved his blade into her stomach. She cried out in pain. </span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>Macarena came to her rescue, jumping onto his back and choking him out, tighter and tighter until he fell to his knees, unconscious. She turned in time to see Altagracía finishing off the tall brute before her with a headbutt and kick combination that was sure to leave him in a hospital bed for a week.</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>Maca tapped at the receptor in her ear, “Castillo, a little fucking help in here!”</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>In less than thirty seconds, sirens could be heard, bright police lights flashed and the warehouse door flew open.</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>“I need an EMT now!” Macarena shouted, dropping to her knees over Rizos. </span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>“What the fuck happened in here?” Their boss, Castillo asked, hobbling in on his cane.</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>“Find Valbuena! Now! You three,” Altagracía yelled to a small cluster of armed agents, “with me!” They headed off to search the dark warehouse for any signs of Valbuena.</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>“Hey. I’m here. How’s the pain?” Macarena asked, trying to find the source of the blood.</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>“Losing my virginity hurt worse.” Rizos joked, but her chuckle turned into a painful cough.</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>“You’re such a little shit.” Maca laughed, grabbing hold of Rizos’ hand and squeezing it tightly.</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>“Maca, we can’t let this fucker get away.”</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>“We won’t.”</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>Twenty minutes later, Valbuena was in custody and the group stood around the ambulance while EMTs packed Rizos’ wound.</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>“Get her to a hospital now.”</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>“Wait wait! What about Valbuena’s ‘favorite client’?” Rizos asked.</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>Castillo looked between Altagracía, Macarena and Rizos. “We’ll have to figure out another way to get to her.”</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>“No way. We can do this. I’m not going to let some flesh wound get in the way of landing another big fish.”</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>“What? No way. You just got stabbed!” Macarena reminded her.</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>“I’m fine!”</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>“No, you’re not.”</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>“All I need are a couple of stitches and I’ll be good as new.” Rizos grabbed the wrist of the EMT working on her and checked his watch. “It’s just past two, they owner of Scorpion Bar will probably just be closing up. We can make first contact.”</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>“With you bleeding all over the place? No way.”</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>“Yes! What better way to make someone empathize with you than needing help.” Thunder crackled and lightning flashed. “In a storm at that!”</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>Her three colleagues looked at each other, having a silent conversation. They would be lying if they said she didn’t have a point.</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>“Fine.” Castillo said. “But I’ll call in a half hour. If you don’t answer by the fourth ring, we’ll bust down those doors, guns-a-blazing. Are we clear?”</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>“Crystal.”</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>“Vale. Let’s land a big fish, girls.”</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <br/>
  <br/>
</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0003"><h2>3. Bad Girls Travel In Threes</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>
  <span>Standing outside of Scorpion, Altagracía pressed the mobile phone to her ear. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Guerrero,” she answered. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>On the other end of the phone, Castillo confirmed that they had made contact with staff at Scorpion and that Rizos was okay before asking for Macarena. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Maca took the proffered phone from Altagracía. “Castillo? Yeah, I’m here.” There was a pause and Maca nodded. “I’m trying to feel out the owner now… no, she doesn’t seem like the contact. She’s more of a grump and less of a drug dealer,” Maca told him. “Is Valbuena talking at all?... hmm,” Maca chewed on her bottom lip the way she did when something was troubling her. “Well, we’ll just have to come back at 11 and meet them.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Altagracía grabbed the phone back. “Yeah, the only problem is, we have no idea who the contact is or what they look like. All we know is it’s a woman and all she knows it to look for a blonde, a brunette and a curly-haired loudmouth.” Alta told him. “We need Valbuena to give us </span>
  <em>
    <span>something</span>
  </em>
  <span>. Has his phone been processed?... What about the idiots we took down in the warehouse?” Alta listened to what Castillo said, nodding her head and pacing in a small semi-circle, one hand on her hip. “One of them has to know something. I don’t care if you have to threaten their mothers, get me </span>
  <em>
    <span>something</span>
  </em>
  <span>.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>A throat cleared behind them and both women whipped around, both of their hands reaching for the hidden tactical knives they always kept on them. Saray has poked her head out of the front door. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Sorry, but we really have to lock up. What’s the plan for your friend?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Yeah, </span>
  <em>
    <span>Dad</span>
  </em>
  <span>, I gotta go. I’ll call you later.” Alta said. She hung up and slipped the cell into the pocket of her dark jeans. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Right, sorry, we’ll get out of your hair.” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Saray nodded, tapped twice on the frame of the door and disappeared back inside. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Dad?” Maca whispered to Alta who snorted her laughter. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I had to cover! He did </span>
  <em>
    <span>not</span>
  </em>
  <span> like that though.” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>The two giggled conspiratorially as they headed back into the bar. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Inside, Zulema was pulling on a dark bomber jacket and pulling a set of keys from the pocket. Saray slipped a men’s blazer over her band tee and pushed the sleeves up to her elbows. Rizos tried not to drool as she leaned against the bar, pouring herself a shot of whiskey from the bottle that had helped disinfect her stab wound. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Rizos, come on, you’re crashing at mine tonight.” Alta called.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“What? No way, you have a thousand steps that I have to walk up.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Then, you’ll stay at mine.” Maca replied. “You can’t go home like that. Your sister will freak out.” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Cool.” Rizos sat down the shot glass and pushed off of the bar. “Let’s go.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>She brushed past Saray before stopping and turning back around. Marching up to the taller brunette, Rizos placed both hands on the lapels of Saray’s blazer, rose onto her tiptoes and placed a quick, chaste kiss on a stunned Saray. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“</span>
  <em>
    <span>Gracias, gitana</span>
  </em>
  <span>. See you around.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>She limped to the open arms of her two friends and together, the three women disappeared from Zulema’s bar. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>And hopefully from their lives for good, Zulema wished. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Saray turned around and Zulema’s brows rose. “Zule, I think I’m in love.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Zulema shook her head and flicked the overhead lights off, leaving them illuminated only by the neon signs on the wall. “We’ll see what Estrella has to say about that. She hasn’t liked any of your girlfriends so far.” Zulema set the alarm by the door and the two walked out. Saray waited while Zulema locked the front door and they started towards their cars together.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“True. When did that girl get so opinionated?” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I hear that happens when you send girls to school. They start thinking for themselves and become feminists. They don’t want to just stay home and cook anymore.” Zulema joked. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Saray chuckled obnoxiously and opened her car door. Before getting inside, she pointed over the roof at Zulema. “Zule! </span>
  <em>
    <span>Tu</span>
  </em>
  <span>!”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Zulema grinned and pointed back. “</span>
  <em>
    <span>Tu</span>
  </em>
  <span>.”</span>
</p><hr/><p>The next morning came quickly and Maca was awakened to the smell of coffee and loud laughter.</p><p>
  <span>Fucking Rizos. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>She pulled herself out of bed, brushed her teeth and followed the sound of Rizos voice to the kitchen. She and Alta were standing around the island, sipping on coffee and eating breakfast flatbreads from the little hippy cafe across the street.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Ah, good morning, sunshine.” Rizos greeted the blonde.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“How are you so perky? You got stabbed.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I got a new lease on life, what with the whole almost dying thing.” She pushed a to-go cup in Maca’s direction </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“You did </span>
  <em>
    <span>not</span>
  </em>
  <span> almost die,” laughed Altagracía. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Rizos blew a raspberry and waved her off. “Semantics.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“We also got some good news from Castillo.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Maca drank from the coffee and closed her eyes as it went down her throat, burning just a bit. “Oh?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Yeah, he said one of Valbuena’s guys gave him a name.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Maca perked up. “What is it?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Anabel. He cross checked it with the names of the employees at Scorpion.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“</span>
  <em>
    <span>And</span>
  </em>
  <span>?” Maca asked, hope blooming in her chest and across her face.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“There’s an Anabel Villaroch that works there.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Holy shit! Okay, so we have our contact.” Macarena checked the clock on the stove. </span>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>10:15</span>
  </em>
  <span>. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Perfect, so she had forty-five minutes to get ready and get across town to meet this Anabel Villaroch. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Ladies, it’s looking like we are going to earn a vacation somewhere nice after we close this one.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Oh, hell yeah. Salúd.” Rizos said, holding up her coffee cup. Alta and Maca clink theirs against hers. Altagracia’s phone buzzed against the marble counter. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Guerrero… yeah… yep, coming out now.” She said and then hung up. “Fabio’s out front with the duffel bag.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Macarena rolled her eyes. “Don’t let him in,” she called to Alta’s retreating back. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Is it still weird between you two?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Oh, you mean because on the night he was going to propose to me, he caught you and I having sex and now he’s co-leading this task so, technically, I work for him now?” Maca asked, sarcastically. “No, why would it be weird between us?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Rizos put her hands up in surrender. “Still a touchy topic, got it.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“It’s not a touchy top—.” Maca sighed. She couldn’t have this conversation before her caffeine had even kicked in properly. “Whatever. I’m going to shower and get ready.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Maca, I—.” Rizos tried, only for the bathroom door to be shut behind Macarena. “I will just go fuck myself. Yup. That’s what I’ll do.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Talking to yourself?” Alta teased, dropping the duffle onto the kitchen island.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Rizos simply smiled. </span>
</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0004"><h2>4. Good Girls Venden Drogas</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>more ZURENA is coming, I promise!</p></blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>
  <span>Zulema’s back was turned to the front door when Macarena walked into the bar. She reached up and checked the bottom of a bottle of tequila and then set it back down onto the top shelf. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Missed me?” Maca greeted brightly as she leaned over the bar’s countertop.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>She watched as Zulema’s hand froze and her head raised in acknowledgment of the familiar voice. Her shoulders relaxed as if she had just sighed silently before she looked back down at the clipboard in her hands. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Like a bad rash, </span>
  <em>
    <span>rubía</span>
  </em>
  <span>,” Zulema replied, refusing to turn. She scribbled something on the paper and then moved onto the next bottle. Maca glanced around at her surroundings. Even though it was only eleven in the morning, there were already a few regulars. One at the bar, two lazily playing pool and one more sitting at a corner table drinking from a pint of beer. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“What do you want?” Zulema’s voice sounded closer, causing Maca’s head to whip back around to see that the raven-haired beauty was now standing just across from her at the bar top. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Just to bring you a token of appreciation for letting my friend bleed all over your pool table.” She stuck a thumb over her shoulder, asking, “Is that sanitary, by the way? Letting people play on that table?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“What are you, the health inspector?” Zulema asked. Maca shrugged a shoulder, causing Zulema to cross her arms over her chest. “It’s a new pool table.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“How’d you manage that so quickly?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I’ve got connections.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“What? A pool hall owner?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Among others? Any other questions, </span>
  <em>
    <span>Inspectora</span>
  </em>
  <span>?” Zulema wondered with a cock of her brow. Maca cleared her throat. It was in her nature to ask too many questions. Not only as an undercover agent but in general. When she was younger, her father always said curiosity was healthy. Her mother had always warned her that it would get her into trouble. With Zulema, Maca began to realize that she was better off heeding her mother’s advice. If she pressed too hard, Zulema was sure to become suspicious. And that is not what she needed right now.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Nope, just came to drop this off.” Maca reached into the saddlebag that she normally kept tied to her motorcycle and produced a sheet of printed computer paper. She slid it across the bar top for Zulema to pick up.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“What’s this?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“</span>
  <em>
    <span>That</span>
  </em>
  <span> is a receipt for whiskey. To make up for the bottle we used on Rizos last night.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I can buy my own whiskey, thanks.” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I know, but that is the receipt for a twenty-five-year-old bottle of Longmorn 1960.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Zulema’s eyes widened just a fraction. “This costs roughly the same amount as a new pool table.” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Maca grinned. “Then I guess that makes us even.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“No, I can’t accept this. It’s too much.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Too bad. It’s already on its way. It should be delivered here within the week.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Zulema shook her head and bit her lip to stop the small grin that threatened to spill out across her face. “Damn, </span>
  <em>
    <span>rubía</span>
  </em>
  <span>, it’s kind of hard to be annoyed at something like this.” She held the paper up in acknowledgment. “</span>
  <em>
    <span>Gracías</span>
  </em>
  <span>.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“You’re welcome.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“How’s your friend?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“She’s fine. Thanks for asking.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Zulema rested her forearms on the counter. “Ready to tell me how she got stabbed?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Maca mimicked Zulema’s body language. “If I told you, I’d have to kill you.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Get a room.” Saray interrupted, setting a bin of clean glasses on the counter. “Hey, how’s Rizos?” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Alive and kicking. Wondering when you’re going to ask her on a date.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Saray laughed. “</span>
  <em>
    <span>She</span>
  </em>
  <span> kissed </span>
  <em>
    <span>me</span>
  </em>
  <span>, but </span>
  <em>
    <span>I </span>
  </em>
  <span>have to ask </span>
  <em>
    <span>her</span>
  </em>
  <span> out?” She blew a puff of air out, cheeks inflating with the motion. “Women.” The door opening and closing drew her attention and she stretched an arm out. “Anabel, thank you so much for joining us. Glad you could make it to your shift </span>
  <em>
    <span>half an hour late</span>
  </em>
  <span>!”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Maca’s ears perked up. Anabel was the exact person she was looking for.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Don’t give me shit, Saray.” Anabel told her. “I had a long night.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Oh yeah? Met a few bikers looking for a good time?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Anabel responded by sticking her middle finger up, and heading towards the back of the bar, through a door marked “Employees Only”. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Saray looked at Zulema and Maca, rhetorically wondering, “Was it something I said?” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>She finished her task of stacking cups and then disappeared behind the same door that Anabel had. Now, all Maca had to do was wait to make contact with her. She pulled out her phone and texted Altagracía that Anabel had entered the establishment. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Anything else?” Zulema inquired when the blonde made no move to leave. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“You serve food?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Zulema smirked. “Hungry?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Maybe. Or maybe I just want to annoy you for a little bit longer.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>A menu was placed in front of her. “Annoy away, </span>
  <em>
    <span>rubía</span>
  </em>
  <span>. I’ll be in the back anyway.” Zulema walked away and as she entered through the employee door, she jumped into Anabel. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Anabel, whatever the blonde wants,” she looked back at Maca who was perusing the menu, “it’s on the house.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Anabel glanced around Zulema to spot Maca and then back at her boss, a knowing smile on her face. “Got it.” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Anabel returned to the bar, wrapping a waitress apron around her waist. “You're new.” She greeted Maca. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“To town? No. Here, yes. How can you tell?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I’ve worked for Zulema for nearly a decade now. I know everyone that comes in and out of Scorpion.” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Maca nodded. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“What can I get you?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>It wasn’t yet lunch time, but Macarena figured she could at least take that time to chat Anabel up, and then take the food home with her. She just needed enough time to figure out her next course of action. “Lamb skewers and steak fries?” She handed the menu to Anabel.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Anything to drink?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Surprise me.” Maca told her. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Anabel laughed. “You should never say that to a bartender.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Why not?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“They’ll give you the strongest, most expensive thing in the bar.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Maca shrugged. “Let’s see what you got.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Anabel tapped the bar once, accepting Macarena’s challenge. “</span>
  <em>
    <span>Vale</span>
  </em>
  <span>.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Macarena watched as she disappeared, no doubt to give the chef her order and then reappeared, busying herself with making a drink. Moments later, she was presented with a tumbler of dark amber liquid with ice in the glass. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“What is it?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“A surprise.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Maca lifted the glass to her lips and sipped. It was surprisingly sweet and went down smoothly. “That’s incredible.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Scotch and soda with a cherry grenadine. It’ll put you on your ass.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Maca laughed. “Then I shouldn’t have more than one.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Anabel winked at her. “I’ll be back with your grub.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>It wasn’t long before she was served a piping hot meal. It was already wrapped in a to-go container. Anabel discreetly slipped what appeared to be a receipt to Macarena and then made herself scarce once again.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Macarena opened the paper and read in shockingly elegant script:</span>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>Rear door. 10 minutes.</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <span>Maca knocked back the remnants of the interesting drink and turned to leave, only to be stopped by the voice of Saray.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“</span>
  <em>
    <span>Oyé</span>
  </em>
  <span>, </span>
  <em>
    <span>rubía</span>
  </em>
  <span>!” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Yeah?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Will you give this to Rizos?” She rounded the bar, holding up a note between her middle and pointer fingers.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Of course.” Macarena took the nite and shoved it into the back pocket of her jeans. </span>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>Poor girl</span>
  </em>
  <span>, Maca thought. It wasn’t like Rizos could actually start a relationship with Saray. They had a job to do and that was it. </span>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>Poor me</span>
  </em>
  <span>, she thought next. Because she really, </span>
  <em>
    <span>really </span>
  </em>
  <span>wanted to get to know more about Zulema. The raven-haired bar owner was mysterious. And if it was one thing Maca was good at getting to the bottom of, it was a good mystery. </span>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>Focus Macarena</span>
  </em>
  <span>, she told herself as she left the bar and walked down the street to the car waiting for her. Inside sat Rizos and Alta. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“What took you so long?” Rizos asked from the back seat. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I was waiting to talk to Anabel.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“And?” Alta asked.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“She wants us to meet her at the back door in ten minutes.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Perfect.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“What smells so good?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Maca rolled her eyes and handed over the food to Rizos. “Lamb skewers.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“</span>
  <em>
    <span>Joder</span>
  </em>
  <span>.” Rizos excitedly tore open the bag and pulled one out, biting into it. She groaned with pleasure, her eyes closing and head hitting the headrest. “So good.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I’m glad you’re enjoying my lunch”, deadpanned Maca. “Are you going to be okay to meet Anabel with us?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I’m fine. It’s just a little stab wound.” Rizos huffed. She’d taken worse hits in her time as a UC. A stabbing wasn’t going to stop her from doing what she did best. And she told them as much. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Fine.” Alta sighed. “Let’s do this.”</span>
</p><p> </p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0005"><h2>5. Bad Girls Make Good Impressions</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>1000 points to hufflepuff to whoever finds the ftcol easter egg.</p></blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>
  <span>Maca, flanked on either side by Altagracia and Rizos, met Anabel at the rear door of Scorpion. Anabel was lighting what looked like a cigarette but smelled like something much more illegal. She nodded at the godforsaken duffle bag that Altagracia held in front of her.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Is that it?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Your order,” Maca confirmed. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Anabel reached for the bag, but Maca’s reflexes were quicker. She blocked Anabel’s hand. “The payment first.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Anabel reached into her shirt and fished underneath her ample bosom for the wad of paper bills she had stashed there. She held it out to Maca. Alta handed over the bag and then Rizos placed a hand on Anabel’s wrist, halting her movement.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Maca pulled her badge out of her back pocket and showed it to Anabel. “Anabel Villaroch, you’re under arrest for crimes against the crown, including by not limited to the purchase of unprescribed narcotics and unlawful distribution of said narcotics.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Rizos took the duffel bag and Maca pulled a set of handcuffs from the pocket of her leather jacket.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“</span>
  <em>
    <span>Espera</span>
  </em>
  <span>! I’m just the middle man. I only collect the product.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Yeah, we’ve never heard </span>
  <em>
    <span>that</span>
  </em>
  <span> before,” Rizos replied sarcastically.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“No, I’m serious! I can get you the real brains behind this operation.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“And who would that be?” Altagracia inquired.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“My boss, Zulema. She’s who you want. I can help you. I have intimate knowledge of her business dealings. I’m talking about taking down a huge drug-trafficking ring.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Not interested,” Rizos told her. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Well, now, wait.” Alta held a hand up. “This could help us. Valbuena isn’t saying anything. He’ll probably hire a high profile lawyer and be out in less than five years.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“He said that Zulema was a new client.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“No, he said her order was new but she was his favorite client,” Maca recalled. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>They looked at one another, having a silent conversation. It was how they made decisions as a team. Alta nodded once, followed by a reluctant Rizos. Maca uncuffed Anabel. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Start talking.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I have to get back to the bar before Zulema notices. I’ll need the bag, otherwise, she’ll wonder where her drugs are.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Rizos looked to Alta who glanced over at Maca. Maca nodded and Rizos handed the narcotics back over to a fucking criminal in disbelief. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“If you fuck us over, you’ll regret it,” Rizos threatened. Anabel didn’t seem phased in the slightest. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“We need to put someone on the inside. How can we make that happen?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Zulema will smell a cop from a mile away.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Not Maca,” Alta countered. “They have a thing.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“That may be true, but Zulema moves this place more than life itself. No way is she going to mess that up for some blonde </span>
  <em>
    <span>chocha</span>
  </em>
  <span>.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I’ll make it happen. Don’t worry about that, but I need a way in. Tell me about Zulema.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Anabel told them as much as she could in the short period that she had left before Zulema became suspicious. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Zulema is smarter than you think and she doesn’t trust anyone except for Saray.” Anabel placed her attention on Maca, “And flashing your pearly whites and tits like you have been won’t help. You need to show her that you’re not just a pretty face. Make a power move of some sort.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Maca nodded and they waited for Anabel to head back inside before they turned and headed back to the car.</span>
</p><hr/><p>
  <span>They debriefed Castillo and Fabio at Maca’s flat. They were </span>
  <em>
    <span>not</span>
  </em>
  <span> happy with the idea of allowing Anabel to return to work as if nothing happened. Still, Alta relayed Anabel’s story succinctly while Rizos supplied the reasoning behind their decision to let Anabel walk freely and what it would take to bring Zulema Zahir down along with Valbuena and their entire operation. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“What makes you think she didn’t turn around and tell Zulema that there’s a trio of </span>
  <em>
    <span>federales</span>
  </em>
  <span> looking into her business dealings?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Alta shook her head. “Anabel’s smart, calculated. She knows if she cooperates, she has a better chance at striking a deal or even receiving immunity when the time comes to shake down Zulema Zahir.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Exactly,” Rizos added. “Plus, she was quick to give Zulema up. It seems to me that there’s some bad blood between them.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Or Anabel’s looking to become </span>
  <em>
    <span>la jefa</span>
  </em>
  <span>,” Macarena interjected. She turned her computer around so the team could see her screen. She’d been searching Zulema’s file in the hopes of finding a way to make a move big enough that would get her noticed by the bar owner. Instead, she’d come across a listing for Scorpion. The bar was up for sale. Had been for the better part of a year, yet there was only an offer made by Villaroch Real Estate. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Looks like Anabel’s family is trying to purchase the bar.” Maca clicked to the next screen. “It looks like Villaroch Real Estate has bought every single bar or restaurant along that strip.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Alta took control of the computer, brows furrowed. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“</span>
  <em>
    <span>Que pasa</span>
  </em>
  <span>?” Rizos asked. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Villaroch sounds so familiar to me, and—. </span>
  <em>
    <span>Ah-ha</span>
  </em>
  <span>! I knew it.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Four heads leaned into the computer screen as well to see what Alta had discovered. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Alejandro Villaroch has been under investigation for a string of sexual assaults that occurred over the last ten years. All by women who worked under him directly or for the companies that his company has bought out.” Altagracia explained.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“No wonder Zulema doesn’t want to sell to this asshole,” Castillo murmured. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“So what are we thinking? Zulema doesn’t have the money to keep the bar going so she’s dipped her toe into the world of drugs?” Fabio wondered.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“It doesn’t make sense. According to her tax records, she’s breaking even, and as far as her bank accounts, she doesn’t appear to be spending above her means,” Rizos pointed out. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“There’s something else going on here. We just have to figure out what,” Maca told her bosses. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“And how are you going to do that?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Maca turned the computer back to her one last time, fingers click-clacking against the keys. “With this.” She pivoted the screen on more time and showed them the screen.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“A karaoke contest?” Fabio looked skeptical. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Oh, I’m in!” Rizos quipped. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“No, Rizos, we’re not going to be </span>
  <em>
    <span>in</span>
  </em>
  <span> the contest, we’re going to be working it.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I’m not following,” Castillo offered for the whole group. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“We pack the hell out of Scorpion for karaoke night to the point where Zulema’s small staff can’t handle it. I swoop in and save the day by helping to tend bar or clear tables, or whatever. Something that shows Zulema that I’m not just a woman that will stand idly by while another woman needs help.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Alta picked up on what Maca was saying. Realization mixed with awe crossed her face and she nodded. “A power move, like Anabel said.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Exactly.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>There’s just one problem with all of this,” Fabio doubted. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“What’s that?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Where the hell are we going to find enough people for this plan to work in less than two days?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Alta and Maca looked at each other, smirking, and then they looked directly at Rizos.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Rizos, who’d been scrolling through the menu of Scorpion noticed the silence and looked up from the screen to see her two partners grinning devilishly at her. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“What?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Wasn't your ex a party promoter?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Rizos shook her head. “No. Absolutely not. I refuse.” She crossed her arms and started a staring match with them both.</span>
</p><hr/><p>Rizos lost the staring match. And her ex came through with helping them dump a shit ton of loyal partygoers into the mid-sized bar. </p><p>
  <span>Maca pulled up to Scorpion on her motorcycle and there were almost no spots free. She found one further down the street and she passed a group of catcalling men who had never seen a hot, female biker before. When Maca stepped inside of the rowdy bar, she immediately regretted her choice of lace, spaghetti-strapped bodysuit underneath a pair of faux leather skinny pants. Her wardrobe screamed “I’m hot and I know it”, and that was like bait to the sea of hungry barracudas in the establishment. By the time she maneuvered through the crowd, she’d already been hit on three times by a hipster, an old guy, and a woman. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>She noticed Zulema was behind the bar, mixing drinks while clearing the counter and running credits at the same time.  </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Well, I came here for some playful banter, but it looks like you’ve got your hands full,” Maca admitted, looking around. No matter which way she turned, someone was yelling for the bartender’s attention. </span>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>Damn, Rizos’ ex was good.</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <span>“Filled and my fucking bartender called out tonight of all nights.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“What’s tonight?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Zulema jutted her chin toward the area where the pool table usually stood. Instead, a small stage had been set up and two microphone stands stood at its center. Two screens had been strategically placed on either side of the stage. Maca turned back to Zulema. “Shit, I didn’t realize that people loved karaoke so much.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“They usually don’t,” Zulema replied as she slid the five beers onto a round tray and whistled for her server. The girl approached the bar quickly. “Casper, these go to the rowdy frat boys in the corner.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Got it,” the platinum blonde responded, sliding the gray towards herself before balancing it on her right hand. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Who do I have to fuck to get a drink around here?” A gruff voice wondered rudely.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Baby, you don’t have what it takes to handle me but I’ll serve you just the same,” Anabel answered before Zulema could. “What can I get for you?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>The people, mostly men, and tourists, just kept coming and with only Anabel and Zulema behind the bar, service was a little slower than usual. Maca felt bad. So, she jogged down to the section of the bar that lifted, slid underneath of it, storing her motorcycle helmet underneath of the bar for safe-keeping, and set to work dipping her hands into the hot, chemical water meant for the dishes and then the cold water just beside it.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Whoa whoa, what are you doing?” Zulema asked when she felt someone pull the dishtowel off of her shoulder.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Helping,” Maca responded. She dried her hands off with the towel and then found a waist apron that she tied around herself. The blonde shuffled to the end of the packed bar and leaned over to ask, “What can I get you?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Zulema looked annoyed, yet impressed as Maca made a show of shaking mixers, uncapping beers, and filling lager pints without spilling a drop of. She managed to get through six customers in a span of as many minutes, ending each exchange with a special farewell: a wink at one customer,  dimpled smile to another, and even a nose tap to the adorable, elderly gentleman who had gone unnoticed by Zulema’s other bartenders for the better part of ten minutes. She collected tips and shoved them in the pockets of the </span>
  <em>
    <span>actual </span>
  </em>
  <span>bartenders even though Maca had done their jobs for them. The blonde even cheered for some of the </span>
  <em>
    <span>worst</span>
  </em>
  <span> talents Zulema had ever seen during karaoke night. </span>
  <em>
    <span>Finally</span>
  </em>
  <span>, it seemed as if the rush was dying down and as customers were enjoying their cocktails and food, Maca rounded the bar and checked in at the individual tables. </span>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>How’s the grub? </span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>Can I get you anything else?</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>Oh, let me get these empty plates out of your way!</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <span>As drunk customers hit the stage to show off their horrific singing voices, Zulema eyed Macarena like a hawk. She watched the blonde flitted from table to table like a hummingbird slipping from flower to flower. When Anabel stepped away for her third smoke break of the night, Zulema filled a drink order as she watched Macarena picked up two plates with half-eaten food and discarded napkins. As she turned to bring them back to the bar, the idiot at the table she was cleaning squeezed her ass. Zulema made a move to round the counter but stopped in her tracks as she watched Macarena quickly grip the wrist of the offender and bent it back until he cried out in pain. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“First,” Maca scolded him, while still holding the plates in her free hand, “you should treat the body of a woman with respect.” She must have tightened her grip and bent his wrist back further because he vocalized his pain once more. “Second, you never touch a woman’s body without consent. And third,” she released his arm and quickly gripped his chin, looking him dead in the eye, “I will tear off your arm and shove it so far up your ass, you’ll be choking on your fingernails for a week. </span>
  <em>
    <span>Entiendes</span>
  </em>
  <span>?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>He nodded and Maca roughly pushed his face away and then tapped his cheek roughly. “Now, give the talented karaoke singers your undivided attention.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Zulema was fucking tickled. Watching a woman stand up for herself, especially against a man, always gave her the chills. She wanted to be surrounded by powerful people who identified as women. That’s why her staff consisted of such. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Cepo, the dishwasher, being the exception and that was only because she had a rich history with him. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>The man did as he was told and Maca returned to the bar, setting the plates on the bar, she huffed in annoyance. She didn’t look defeated, but Zulema could tell that the exchange had taken some of her energy. Checking her watch, Zulema realized Maca had been on her feet for the better part of three hours. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“</span>
  <em>
    <span>Rubia</span>
  </em>
  <span>, drop those off to Cepo in the back and take thirty.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Thirty what?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Zulema scoffed. “A half-hour break.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Oh, no thanks, I’m good.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Zulema dunked the soapy cups into the cold water and then started to dry them off. “You may be good, but I won’t be if the department of employment finds out I have an employee working with no break.” She didn’t look at  Macarena as she spoke to her, but she could practically </span>
  <em>
    <span>feel</span>
  </em>
  <span> Maca’s smile radiating warmth against the side of her face. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“So, I’m hired?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Zulema slammed the glass down into its holder and huffed her annoyance. “You wanna get fired on the same day, too?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Maca put her hands up, backing down, picked up the plates, and headed towards the kitchen. She found the dishwashing station, manned by who she could only assume was—.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Cepo?” Maca asked. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Leave them there,” was all he replied without actually turning and looking at Macarena. He was in his little world, so Maca left the plates with him. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Is there a place where employees usually go to sit for the breaks?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Manager’s office, there.” He pointed to the right. “Or the picnic tables out back.” Cepo pointed to the left. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“</span>
  <em>
    <span>Gracias</span>
  </em>
  <span>.” Naturally, Macarena started towards the manager’s office, hoping to find something on the computer or in Zulema’s desk that could help their case. Macarena also needed to plant the recording bugs in the office. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>When she entered, it was unoccupied and oddly well-kept for the office of a bar. Maca stepped inside and shut the door behind her. She pulled out her cell phone and called Rizos and Alta to let them know that she’d been successful in her mission and now she was on Zulema Zahir’s payroll. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Where are you now?” Alta asked.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“In her office.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“All clear?” Rizos voice came on the line.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I think so.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“You think so or you’re positive?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I think so. I kinda get the feeling that I’m being watched.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Then you probably are. She could have a camera in her office.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Maca looked at the four corners of the ceiling and found nothing. “No security cameras.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Yeah, but cameras can be made so tiny these days that they fit in the eye of a teddy bear. Anything in there could be a camera. Hold off on planting the recording devices until we can do a full sweep.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“</span>
  <em>
    <span>Vale</span>
  </em>
  <span>,” Maca hung up the phone and turned to leave. She opened the door and standing there was Zulema Zahir, the hand just about to turn the knob to enter. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Maca startled, gasping as she put her hand on her chest. “Jesus, Zulema, a little warning.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“You were in </span>
  <em>
    <span>my</span>
  </em>
  <span> office.” Her head tilted. “Why </span>
  <em>
    <span>were</span>
  </em>
  <span> you in my office?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Maca held up her phone. “Personal phone call.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“About that. I should break down the rules here at Scorpion.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Okay.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Don’t bring your shit here. Whatever happens outside of this bar, stays outside of this bar, and vice versa.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Maca nodded. “That won’t be a problem because I’m single.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I don’t care.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Not even a little?” Maca smirked. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Zulema ignored her question. “When you’re here, you’re a part of a team. That’s how I run this place and anyone who can’t work as part of a team has no place here.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Orgy mindset. Got it. Anything else, boss?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Yeah.” Zulema took a step closer until they were breathing the same air. “Don’t get on my bad side.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“What happens if I do? Do I get called into your office? Punished over your desk? Maybe there’s a ruler involved. Wait, sorry, wrong fantasy,” Maca cheekily replied, tongue pressed against the corner of her mouth. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Zulema was amused by the blonde, but she didn’t show it. Instead, she pushed past Macarena into the office and slammed the door shut. </span>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>Yeah</span>
  </em>
  <span>, Maca decided, </span>
  <em>
    <span>I’m going to enjoy this mission</span>
  </em>
  <span>.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>A lot more than she should.</span>
</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0006"><h2>6. Good Girls Seduce Bad Girls For Fun</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>semi-edited</p></blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>For three weeks, Maca and Zulema established a routine. </p><p>The blonde flirted with her relentlessly, and the brunette completely ignored her existence while secretly enjoying the attention. Macarena went from working one or two nights a week at Scorpion to four days a week with varied shift times that somehow coincided with the days and times that Zulema, herself, was in the bar. </p><p>Alta and Rizos had become regular patrons at the establishment. Not only to drain Zulema’s bar dry of any bottles of tequila but also to keep an eye on Macarena.</p><p>The blonde had spent the majority of her lunch breaks in Zulema’s office but rarely was she ever alone. Suspicious or infatuated, Zulema always found her way into the office. She sat at her desk and ignored Macarena until the blonde’s break was over. </p><p>It was a Friday when Maca and the girls were able to make their move. The busiest night that they’d had since Maca’s first night kept Zulema busy at the bar. </p><p>“Taking a half, <em> jefa </em>,” Maca told her as whipped the dishtowel off of her shoulder, dried her hands, and dropped it onto Zulema’s shoulder. </p><p>“<em> Vale </em>,” a distracted Zulema replied. </p><p>Maca scanned the bar to make sure she wasn’t being watched, and then pulled a small earpiece from the front pocket of her denim shorts and slipped it into her ear. She found Rizos at a table in the corner and she nodded once as she slipped behind the ‘Employees Only’ door. Rizos stands up and holds up a pack of cigarettes to not only tell Altagracia she was going outside to smoke but also to signal Alta to keep Zulema distracted. </p><p>Rizos made her way outside and bypassed the few bikers that loitered out front with the alcohol they’d received inside. She stopped at her bike and swung her leg over it, straddling it. Rizos unlocked the combination on the saddlebag and pulled out a tablet. </p><p>Tapping the earpiece in her ear once, she waits for the electronic beep signaling her connection to Macarena. </p><p>“<em> Oye </em> , <em> rubía </em>, are you in?” </p><p>“Yeah.”</p><p>“Okay, give me ten seconds to block any outgoing signals from possible cameras or bugs already in the office.” As she spoke, Rizos tapped at the illuminated screen. “Vale, you have thirty seconds before this lapse in time looks entirely too suspicious.”</p><p>Back at the bar, Alta watched as Zulema worked on the last two drinks for a couple. She slipped in between two patrons and leaned over the bar to catch Zulema’s attention. </p><p>“<em> Que </em>?” Zulema asked when she spotted Alta over the bottle of Jack she was pouring. </p><p>“Two shots of tequila, please.”</p><p>Zulema nodded once, finished with her other patrons, and then made her way down to Alta. </p><p>“Where’s Rizos?” Zulema asked. </p><p>“<em> Fumando </em>.”</p><p>Zulema nodded but didn’t respond. Just then, Anabel rushed around the bar, keys, and handbag in hand. </p><p>“Anabel, late, as usual,” greeted Zulema. “Drop your shit. Pour <em> la mexicana </em> a drink. I have to pee.”</p><p>Alta cursed under her breath and pulled her cell phone from her back pocket. She shot a quick text to Rizos that Zulema was on the move. </p><p>Unbeknownst to Zulema, when Maca slipped the dish towel onto the brunette’s shoulder, a tiny tracker was secured under the tag. The signal was routed directly to Rizos’ computer screen and she could see Zulema getting closer and closer to Macarena’s current position. </p><p>Back outside, Rizos heard her phone chime. She read the message and relayed the message to Macarena. “ I have to get these cameras back up now.”</p><p>She’d already placed the buttonhole camera in the perfect location. Maca turned in a semicircle and, in milliseconds, contemplated each hiding place and the possibility of the bug being found. </p><p>Zulema was smart. </p><p>“<em> Rubía </em>, just put the damn bug anywhere! You have maybe ten seconds before she opens that door,” Rizos urged. The last thing they needed was Macarena being caught. </p><p>So Maca decided on hiding it in plain sight. She quickly opened the picture frame of Zulema and a handsome Egyptian man, stuck the bug inside, and sealed it back. She plopped down in the chair. </p><p>“Vale. We’re good,” she said, kicking her feet up onto the desk. She yanked a cereal bar out of the front pocket of her waist apron, opened it, and took a huge bite. A second later, the door to Zulema’s office swung open dramatically as if Zulema was trying to catch her doing something wrong. They locked eyes and Maca smiled. </p><p>“Come to spend some alone time with me?”</p><p>Zulema scoffed and rounded the desk. “Get out of my chair.”</p><p>Maca removed her feet off of the desk and stood up. In a move that was becoming her signature threat, Zulema took a step to the side, blocking Macarena’s path. </p><p>Despite her heart pounding from almost being caught, Maca tilted her head to the side coquettishly and wondered, “Is this the part where we kiss?”</p><p>“Eat your lunch elsewhere from now on.”</p><p>Maca put her hand to her head in a faux salute. “Yes, <em> jefa </em>.”</p><p>The brunette’s lips parted. It was a tell. She liked when Maca called her boss. </p><p>Zulema moved to let her pass and then sat at her desk. </p><p>“Who’s the cutie?” Maca asked, jutting her chin at the picture. </p><p>“A… friend.”</p><p>“A friend like you and Saray or a friend like you and me?”</p><p>Zulema sighed deeply, silently telling Maca that she was testing her nerves. “Not like me and Saray.”</p><p>“Hm,” Maca said, heading to the door. “I didn’t peg you as a straight girl.”</p><p>“I never said I was,” Zulema replied, not looking up from the papers she was shifting in front of her. She didn’t want to reveal anything to the blonde. She didn’t want to admit that she liked her. But she did. And Maca’s not-so-subtle flirting definitely didn’t help.  </p><p>That was all she would say. And that was all Maca needed her to say.</p><hr/><p>Closing time came around quicker than normal thanks to the steady ebb of patrons. </p><p>Rizos got conned into helping with the cleanup by a flirty Saray who Maca was beginning to realize was a lot smarter than she gave her credit for. Truth be told, Macarena wouldn’t be surprised if Saray was in on whatever side business Zulema had. </p><p>Rizos, ever the party girl, slipped a few bills into the modernized jukebox and used the app on her phone to play a series of girl-friendly tunes. They were halfway done with the closing cleanup checklist when a favorite of theirs came on. Rizos used the app to turn the volume up and within moments of the beat drop, the entire closing staff broke out into song. </p><p>As the bartenders, waitresses, and Rizos shouted at one another, “<em> Bitch, betta have my money </em>!”, Saray continued to wipe down the tables, thoroughly amused. Ever since Maca, Rizos, and Altagracia had burst into their lives, nothing had been the same. Work was more fun and it was obvious by the way the staff came bouncing into work ready to start their shifts. Everyone except Anabel, of course. </p><p>The girls continued to clean and sing their hearts out, Saray’s eyes found her best friend. Zulema tried her hardest not to smile as she shook her head and continued to write in the ledger. The brunette looked up and Saray followed her gaze to Maca who was holding a broomstick out to Luna as took the next line of the song.</p><p><em> Oh </em> , Saray thought, <em> I see what’s happening here. </em></p><p>She watched with amusement as Maca swept the floor, making her way back over to the bar. She sang the next line and then pointed at Zulema to take it away. </p><p>Zulema leaned over into Maca’s pretend microphone and said “Get back to work before I fire you.”</p><p>Macarena leaned over the bar and smiled dazzlingly. “You like me too much to fire me.”</p><p>“I don’t think so, <em> rubia </em>.”</p><p>“How much longer are we gonna go round and round like this?”</p><p>“Maca,” Zulema murmured, throwing the blonde off by the use of her real name. She’d be <em> rubia </em> or <em> rubita </em> for as long as she’d known Zulema. “You wouldn’t be able to handle it if I gave you the time of day.”</p><p>Cocky, and feeling oddly challenged, Macarena cocked a brow and responded, “But I would have so much fun trying.”</p><p>Zulema grinned then. And as the song died down, the brunette slammed the ledger closed and called out, “<em> Vale </em>, let’s call it a night, ladies!”</p><p>The girls put away their cleaning supplies and grabbed their things from lockers and under the bar. </p><p>On their way out, Maca spotted a familiar car out front of the bar. She told Rizos to go ahead home without her, nodding her head to Fabio who was exiting the front seat. He looked pissed. </p><p>“What the hell are you doing here?” Macarena hissed. “You’re going to blow my cover.”</p><p>It was true. Fabio could no longer be considered an undercover agent because his face had been seen one too many times attached to large drug busts. A few years back, a ridiculously adept journalist had outed his real name to the press and almost got him killed during an assignment. That was how he’d become Macarena’s handler. </p><p>“I’m trying to make sure you have a job when this is all said and done.”</p><p>“What’s that supposed to mean?” Maca huffed. </p><p>“You just need to keep it together and make sure you remain professional at all times.”</p><p>“Don’t come here telling me how to do my job. I’m not the one that was made by a fucking entry-level journalist.”</p><p>Fabio scoffed. “You know what your problem is?”</p><p>“I’m breathless to know,” Maca responded, her tone drenched in sarcasm.</p><p>“Your problem is you can’t keep your legs closed long enough to do your job. You’re supposed to be building a case against Zahir. Not fucking her.”</p><p>Maca’s body moved on autopilot, and her palm connected with Fabio’s face before she could stop herself. In the moments that followed, only silence and fury filled the space between them.</p><p>“<em> Oye </em>! Is there a problem here?” Saray’s voice calls. Fabio turns and Maca looks over his shoulder to see Saray standing at the door of the bar with a Louisville slugger in one hand, the barrel resting on her shoulder. Zulema exited the bar to see what caused Saray to grab one of the many bats hidden around the bar. </p><p>“Nothing. He was just leaving.”</p><p>And Fabio did. He got into his car, murmuring so that only Macarena could hear him, “Next time you want to put yourself out there with a mark, make sure your goddamned earpiece is off.”</p><p>Maca’s hand twitched, ready to reach up and touch her ear where the comm system was hidden behind her wavy blonde hair. She stopped when she saw that Zulema and Saray were still staring at the scene before them, waiting for Fabio to pull off. When he did, Saray asked if she was okay. </p><p>“Yeah, just my ex,” Maca explained. </p><p>“<em> Oye </em> , <em> rubía </em> , keep your personal shit away from my bar, <em> entiendes </em>?” Zulema told her. </p><p>Despite the context, Macarena noted that Zulema’s tone wasn’t mean. She sounded… <em> concerned </em>?</p><p>“It won’t happen again.” </p><p>“One of the girls will walk with you to your bike during any closing shifts.”</p><p>“Why not you?” Maca asked. </p><p>Saray chuckled under her breath. When Zulema eyed the taller brunette, she shrugged her shoulder and walked back into the bar. </p><p>“Look,” Zulema said, “you’re cute and if I were in a different place, I’d take you home and fuck you for hours. <em> Maybe </em> even let you fuck me. But I have a lot on my plate right now and no time to hold your hand, so flirt all you like, but know that <em> this </em> ,” she gestured between herself and Macarena, “will never happen, <em> claro </em>?”</p><p>Zulema hoped like hell that Macarena believed what she was saying because she, herself, didn’t believe it at all. Her resolve was crumbling and after seeing what had happened between Macarena and her ex, Zulema suddenly felt protective over the blonde. </p><p>“Whatever you say, boss.” Maca smiled cheekily. She turned on her heels and made her way to the lone motorcycle in the parking lot. </p><p>Helmet. </p><p>Key. </p><p>Revving engine. </p><p>Zulema watched as the blonde tapped the kickstand with her heel and went soaring out of the lot and down the street. </p><p><em> Fucking bikers </em>, Zulema thought. </p><p>“Never seen you turn down a biker before, Zule,” Saray said. </p><p>“But I’ve turned down plenty of Feds.”</p><p>“<em> Que </em>?”</p><p>Zulema smirked. “I see I still have a lot to teach you.”</p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Author's Note:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>I’m killingsaray on twitter and tumblr! come say hi to me!</p></blockquote></div></div>
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